


Conquered

by tetsubinatu



Series: Conquered 'verse [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-30
Updated: 2011-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 04:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetsubinatu/pseuds/tetsubinatu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink-me prompt is: Arthur/Merlin, spoils of war AU. Merlin is a prince from another kingdom. His father goes to war against Camelot and defeats Uther. Arthur is going to be executed until Merlin decides to claim him as his part of the spoils. Fucked up relationship ensues with arrogant dom!Merlin and defiant!Arthur. They start off hating each other but soon find they can't get enough of one another.</p><p>Arthur isn't so much defiant here as broken, however.  It's all a bit fucked-up really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conquered

"I want him," said Prince Merlin suddenly from his father's side, gesturing to the closer of the two men kneeling at their feet.

Uther looked up at the victorious King and his son with an expression of defiance that was exactly mirrored on his son's face.

"I am a King and I will die a King," said Uther. Balinor gestured with his hand and the executioner brought down the axe.

Arthur's blond hair was spattered with his father's blood. His face was sharp with anguish as he waited for his turn, face set in the certain knowledge of his approaching death.

"Please, Father," said the usurper Prince. "He's so pretty... and you know that Uther would hate that worse than execution: to have his son slave to one of us."

King Balinor's face looked thoughtful but he turned to face his son. "This is the son of the man who had your mother executed. What would you do with him?"

Merlin smiled hopefully. "He can be my chamber servant," he said. "Attend to all my needs."

Balinor still looked doubtful. "He would be a rallying point for every disaffected subject in the kingdom," he said.

"A good way to smoke them out," Merlin countered. "I will confine him to my quarters so that he is never seen. Eventually they may forget him entirely."

Balinor looked from his son to the new-made slave at his feet. "Very well, Merlin, but take care to confine him well. I will check up on him regularly until I am sure that he is under your control. You cannot trust a Pendragon, remember. They can turn on you at the least provocation."

"I understand," Merlin said eagerly. He turned to Arthur and grimaced slightly at the sight of him. With a word, the former prince was clean, and with another he was collared and the chain was in Merlin's hand.

"Come on then," he said, tugging slightly. Arthur stumbled after him, trying to ignore the spattered ground he had to cover. They wound their way up the Eastern Tower and Prince Merlin stopped a moment to show Arthur the view. Yesterday's battlefield was cleared, and the pyres of the fallen were already burning.

"You lost," Merlin said, jerking Arthur's head on the end of the chain. "Remember that. You lost and now _I_ am Prince of Camelot and Aescetir, and you are nothing. Remember that and we will get on very well."

Arthur watched the smoke from the bodies of the dead rising over the flattened crops of his people and thought that he would have a hard time forgetting.

* * *

Merlin’s rooms were at the top of the tower. Arthur wondered why he had chosen rooms so remote, rather than the spacious chambers which Arthur and his father had occupied. The top floor was a bedroom, the floor below was empty and the one below that had a table and chairs in it. The door to the lowermost room was one of the heaviest that Arthur had ever seen, and it almost glowed with magic.

“These three rooms will be the limit of your liberty,” Merlin said after showing him the rooms. “I will be furbishing the middle one as a study and workshop, but I haven’t had time for that yet. Do you know where I could find appropriate furniture?” Arthur looked at him blankly.

Ten minutes ago he had watched his father die, and now he was being asked about furniture. Ten minutes ago he had expected to die alongside his father, and now he was a slave.

Arthur had no illusions as to what sort of slave, either. ‘Pretty’, the man had said. He shuddered, his mind going blank.

“Answer me,” his master said pleasantly. “Where can I find appropriate furniture for a workroom?” The collar around Arthur’s neck was growing hotter and Arthur remembered that these people were _sorcerers_. He had no words as the collar began to burn and he fell to the floor in pain.

He only screamed once before Merlin gestured and the collar was cold again.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said, gathering him in his arms and running his fingers through Arthur’s damp hair. “I should have seen that you were not being disobedient, but just stretched beyond your limits. It’s all right, poppet, I’ll ask again later.”

Arthur shuddered against him, the breath harsh in his throat, and although he wished he didn’t, he took a little comfort from the gentleness of Merlin’s fingers at his nape.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Merlin said. “We’ll talk in the morning.” He led Arthur upstairs to the large bed - Morgana’s, Arthur thought, although Morgana was long gone. With a gesture Arthur’s clothes disappeared and his collar was clamped to the bedpost.

“Sleep well,” Merlin said. “I have work to do, but I’ll be back later.” He leaned over Arthur, tucking the bedclothes around him like some bizarre nursemaid, and then he placed his hand on Arthur’s forehead and Arthur slept.

* * *

The moonlight was streaming into the room when Arthur woke. Merlin was in bed with him, watching him with pale, unreadable eyes.

“You’re a creature of the sun,” Merlin said, “But moonlight becomes you as well. Come here.”

Arthur looked at him, every fibre of his being screaming in protest.

“Will it be easier for you if I tie you down?” Merlin asked. “It’s going to happen, and you have no recourse, no hope of rescue. Will you acknowledge reality or must I use violence?”

“I _can’t_!” Arthur said.

“Let’s try,” said his master. Gently but inexorably he tugged Arthur to the middle of the bed, arranging his limbs to his satisfaction, arms up, holding onto the headboard and legs spread wide. Arthur made a choking noise in his throat, his body going stiff.

“You’re doing well,” Merlin said. “Think of it as surviving until your time comes, if that helps.”

“You don’t think that will happen,” Arthur said, his voice dead.

“No, but if it helps you to pretend...” Merlin said gently. His fingers were slick as he found Arthur’s clenched arse and eased a finger in. Arthur’s breath sobbed as his body opened to the invader, betraying him as Merlin’s fingers made themselves at home in his body, as they had in his kingdom and his castle.

When Merlin finally drove home into Arthur it was almost a relief: the last of his destiny driven from him with the thrust of a sorcerer’s cock in his arse. His future dripping filthy and soiled into the sheets like the come from his violated hole.

Merlin was sated inside him, above him, ruling over him. With a firm, generous hand he took Arthur’s cock and milked the last drop of surrender from his broken captive.


End file.
